Back for Good
Rating M.
Pairing Ruud van Nistelrooy/Edwin van der Sar.
Disclaimer Though inspired by the fact they suddenly started hanging out again, and mostly by the fact Ruud seemed to happy to be with him at the QPR match... well, I'm pretty sure the smutty details are false. However, I do take a lot of things from reality, as the party where they reunited, the BBQ, and the match. Also, it's the first fic I write with POV's--hope you like it! It kinda asked for this... I don't know.
Summary This. https://twitter.com/vdsar1970/status/241802304620212224 And this. https://twitter.com/vdsar1970/status/242004665552740352
Edwin's POV
It was a party for him.
He didn't invite me, though. I was invited because I'm a Dutch legend, he's a Dutch legend, it's suitable, blah blah blah.
I must admit... at first I doubted about going. I just couldn't stop thinking about my testimonial. The way he never showed up. Or Soccer-Aid. How he cancelled because of "personal reasons". It felt as if he didn't want to see me.
I went because I wanted to stop that. We're grown men, for God's sake. Not teenage boys, dodging each other.
I thought I'd just get there, hug him, have a drink, ask him what was the matter and just settle it the way two grown-ups are supposed to do.
It was until I got there and saw him, standing there, drink in his hand, that broad smile... those eyes looking at me, for some reason, as if nothing had happened, as if he hadn't run away from me...
Only then I realized how much I had missed him and, in a way, longed, hurt for him...
Ruud's POV
When I heard he was coming, I was tempted to run. But, my own party?
I was nervous, fucking nervous. I had been avoiding him for so long.
I told myself it didn't make any sense avoiding him anymore. But it was him, the one that didn't want to see me. I mean, he was the one with the perfect life, who retired at the height of his career and was busy and...
It was his fault. His fault only.
I wanted to say that to his face. I wanted him to get there and tell him he was the one who had forgotten me, pushed me aside.
But, when I saw him walking in, dressed like the fucking GQ model he is...
What can I say? Those blue eyes have always frozen me to my spot.
Not to mention that, as soon as I saw him, everything I wanted was...
Him, again. All of him.
Edwin's POV
We end up sitting at a couch. I have a glass of wine in my hand, perhaps have had one too many. He's already on his fifth beer or something, but he has always handled his liquor better than me.
The conversation I had in my mind's not happening. We're laughing, talking about United and Holland goals, remembering. Even his first goal with United, against me. He laughs sonorously, his laughter I remember so well, and puts one arm on the couch's back, as if I was a girl and he was trying to hug me discreetly. He doesn't do it, though.
It feels as if he had forgotten all about it. Then, he asks:
"Why don't you come to the house one of these days? Lunch."
Ruud's POV
I want to hug him. I really want to, but there's to many people at this party for me to do so.
In fact, there are some people that kinda know, and look at me as if asking what's going on. I know many of the Madrid players think it was over when I was banging Cris.
But it was never over. Not in my mind. Not when I was avoiding him, even.
I want to kiss him, to have him. To undress him and fuck him in that couch. That's why I haven't said anything about how he pushed me away. Because he's laughing, and this has become a charmed moment. I don't want to ruin it. And anyways, now, in the middle of the party... it's not the time.
That was why I invited him to lunch. With a bit of hesitance. I was almost thinking that maybe this was a one-night-only offer: that after my party he would just walk away again.
But when he said that we should agree on a date and he smiled, I knew maybe I had another chance.
Edwin's POV
"Old friends re-united."
I liked the pun.
Just friends, right?
I go back to Twitter as I turn my sight away from--well, almost everything that surrounds me. I'm at Ruud's house in the Netherlands, after some years of not going there.
Still, not much has changed. I avert my sight from Ruud, who's leaning over the grill, cooking. Mainly because his jeans enhance his butt.
Yes, I caught myself looking at his butt.
I look up at the windows, but one of them's Ruud's room. And I don't want to look at his window because I remember one night.
He asked if I wanted the neighborhood to see before fucking me feverishly against the glass, my naked body against it while I moaned and panted and prayed the window wouldn't break.
Ruud then turns and watches me fumbling with my phone.
"What are you doing?"
"Just tweeting to my followers," I answer--which I am, but don't say why. "I want them to guess where I am." I smile.
He looks at me with this sudden expression I can't quite decipher, and then he signals at me to come. I wonder what's he thinking, but he only makes me look at the grill.
"Look! My spicy ribs!"
I smile and try to hide the fact that phrase made me think of his ribcage when he arched while penetrating me, tossing his head back, moaning...
"They're almost ready. Can you watch them while I get everything ready inside, please Ed? Be good."
I can only smile and stand by the grill.
Ruud's POV
I needed to set the table, yes, but I also went inside because.... well, being near him only made me think. I was half-expecting him to go and run his hands through my hair while I was looking at the grill.
I was thinking about his tweet too. When he said he had tweeted that to his followers--I had done the same as well. And it's stupid, but it sometimes feels like we're connected. I mean, we end up doing stuff at the same time, and before we (cliché) completed each other's sentences. Guys at United and at Oranje would laugh at that.
I go to the fridge and take out a beer for me. I have an provision of it because of Heineken's ad. Then I go to the cellar to get wine for him. And a glass.
As I put the dishes and napkins, I realize just how much the complete setting looks like a date, or a romantic dinner. I could blame the wine, though.
This is not a romantic dinner, is it?
But if it was a normal BBQ, I would just take a bottle of soda for him and a beer for me and make us eat and drink outside. I gave the excuse that we should eat inside because it's already fall and the weather is sometimes cold.
This is not a romantic dinner. It's just two friends talking and...
Who am I kidding? I took out a bottle of his favorite red wine. It may not be dinner, it may be lunch, and ribs, but...
I am only missing a rose in the middle of the table or something.
"Ruud?" I hear his voice calling from the yard. "I think these ribs are quite ready."
"Yeah... wait, I'm coming!"
Fuck that expression and the context.
Edwin's POV
So I went in, and, well...
I had to admit, Ruud had indeed planned it. Even as he set down the platter with the meat ("fuck, hot", and I didn't like the way those two words sounded) I looked at my favorite wine and a glass waiting there for me. He had his usual beer, of course.
"What are you waiting for? Be my guest."
That was the cue for me to sit down. And we have been eating, filling the blanks with small talk, as the weather, his Heineken ad, the upcoming marathon for me. Stuff like that.
"Your ribs are real good," I say, after getting a second helping--the image of him arching flashes for a second, and I push it away by drinking perhaps too much wine. I have to refill my glass.
Ruud's POV
My ribs are good? Come and bite them and leave marks of your teeth all over, sometimes too hard because you're close to orgasm, while I stroke you, quickly--
But I couldn't just say it, so I drank almost half a beer bottle in a gulp. And started eating like a madman. Just to keep myself busy with something.
However, when I went for more beer and realized I had emptied the bottle, I knew I had to stand up for another one, of course. I wondered just how stupid I looked when I took a drink from an empty bottle.
I stand up and as I make my way to the kitchen, I feel he's watching me. So I turn, and he's there, smiling, that smirk without teeth, just his lips curving. He looks almost smug when he does it. So confident. So unlike me. I have been trying to hide my anxiety since he walked in.
"You still think I eat like a pig, don't you?" I ask as I sit back with a new beer in hand. Some incident with a bag of chocolates I wolfed down makes its way into my mind, but it was a gift for some... stupid... romantic... corny anniversary of us, so I make the memory go away.
Edwin's POV
He's always been a bit of a barbarian and I find that amusing. And appealing, to tell the truth about it.
He keeps staring at me: "What's so funny? Am I still a pig?"
I narrow that affirmation to the food realm.
"You're funny when you're hungry, what can I say? And I remembered something."
"What?" he sits down and looks at me.
I decide that this is the time. It's now or never. The conversation has to lead to the discussion we have been avoiding.
I've tried to act confident, to do th Yeah, boy, you're so going to get him back ecause I know that going for a direct "I've missed you so much" will just make him mad. He will start sayin why didn't you look for me the and all that stuff.
So I start out.
"Do you remember that time in Torino, when Alex asked me to visit and I took you? At the pizza place. You were so hungry you ate a pizza by yourself, and then, when you found out the dessert was Nutella pizza, well..."
I start chuckling. It had been funny because Ruud had been hungry and in a foul mood, but when his favorite dessert arrived he had acted like a little kid. Of course, I omit the next part, which was going back to the hotel and having sex...
He looks at me with that broad smile of his and then looks away, as if embarrassed. "That pizza was good. It was perfect. Stop it."
I see he's trying to push memories of the sex away as well. But it doesn't matter. I wait for him to say it.
"We should go back there again."
Ruud's POV
i had been tempted to say that the pizza was perfect and that he had been perfect that night too. But I can't.
If I say it, I know I'll most likely get down on my knees and beg him to take me back from... whatever I did.
So I just suggested that. And now I'm hoping he'll answer with a plan. We're free, after all.
What he says next, however, takes me by surprise.
"Alessandro said he'd take us back there in a trip for my testimonial... remember?"
I almost choke with my beer when he says that. When did del Piero say it? I can't remember. I really can't remember.
I bite my lips when he finally asks, beating me to it: "Why did we drift apart?"
Edwin's POV
I tell myself that if he gets angry or starts lashing out at me I'll just leave, and that's that. However, I seem to be lying to myself. My heart's telling me not to go, whatever happens. It's even telling me that, even if we fight, I should stay.
I see him tensing up. He then takes another drink of his beer and looks down at his plate with the bones laying there. For a second it seems as if he's going to just get up, do the dishes and leave me there, but he's got a dishwashing machine, so that's no excuse.
"Ed... it felt as if you pushed me away..." he finally says.
I sigh inaudibly There it goes I think, but then something changes.
"Or maybe it was me," he completes his sentence. "I was calling you long distance every night but I was also Madrid's star, and... I don't know. I was annoying, wasn't I?"
I want to tell him that was not true, that he wasn't. But I guess he knows now that going away was not that good--that not having him physically hurt, that not feeling his heat by my side made me feel lonely. That not even the idea of meeting for internationals helped me. It was just not the same, period.
Guess he'll never know that some days after he left, I had recurrent dreams of him and Beckham fucking, in some kind of reunion. That I was jealous of almost everyone at Madrid because they had him and I didn't. Not even when he had been fucking Cristiano at United because the kid would fling himself at him had I felt so jealous.
That I fucked Rio Ferdinand out of loneliness and jealousy.
So many things happened that when I retired for the internationals I wanted him to retire with me, because I didn't want us to be apart anymore. I wanted us to live like that, like in the hotel, together, forever, sleeping in each other's arms... patching up a relationship that seemed tainted to me.
Then I remember that he had said something about 2010 being our honeymoon or something. About us coming back. Together. And I had agreed.
It hurt. I hadn't remembered that... until now.
Not even when I had been supposed to remember.
Ruud's POV
He's so deep in thought I don't think he has heard himself saying I was not annoying. I wonder what's he thinking about.
I hope it's what we said about 2010. Because... because whenever I remember it I want to get up and shake his shoulders or something--I can't hit him, and I wouldn't, not now, not ever, but sometimes I get so angry...
"And I even fucked Cris when he was at Madrid," is all I can say, for some reason. I know I must be tactful for what comes next...
"I didn't want to bother you when Annemarie was sick."
It's true. I knew he was having a hard time. And I knew he would have done the same if it had been Leontien.
But, still...
It was hard for me to keep myself apart from him when I needed him so. My injury spell...
I think he doesn't know how's it like to feel you might retire well past your prime. When he got to Fulham, he told me, he believed he was no longer fit.
...I have to admit, I was so envious of him afterwards...
He won a CL, and even after Annemarie, he came back and had great seasons, like a phoenix...
I was already over then, wasn't I?
But I needed him. While I was there, recovering. I wanted him to tell me everything would be all right, that I was the scorer everyone knew and loved.
So, when he said he was not coming back for 2010... all I could feel was that he had broken his promise because... he was just past it. Who cared about internationals when you're a superstar in England? And... why, after all... why would you want to go back to your lover, who was not even the shadow of what he used to be?
I knew he was fucking Ferdinand by then, no secret. And they were having a great time, so...
Why bother?
That was when I had thought it was over. So... everything I did... had been ignore him.
That was why I chose Hamburg over Blackburn. I didn't even want to set foot in England. I felt I would be humiliated in front of a man who was glorious and well over me.
While I was not.
Edwin's POV
I knew he would be polite about Annemarie. We have always agreed our wives are not part of what we are.
I also knew he was holding something back. I just keep on watching him.
He finally lets it out.
"Ed... I..." It seems to be hard for him, but he goes on. "I was afraid, Edwin. I was afraid without you. I just kept on thinking what if it had been you instead of Annie. And then came my injuries. I thought I wouldn't be able to play again. And... that... it somehow felt like dying."
I lower my head slightly. He had always been proud of himself somehow. And yes--when I saw I was still a great goalkeeper, it felt like being reborn. So I understood him, in a way.
"And then there was you," Ruud says suddenly, and I feel the bitterness in his voice. It has finally come, the time to blame me. I wait, even though something inside says I should stand up and hold him.
"Edwin... you..." He sighs, has a drink of his beer, and then goes on. "You were so successful. You were doing so well. You had a new lover. Your wife was all right. You had everything. So, when you said you were not going back to 2010... I thought that, well, why would you go back to the Oranje. You didn't need it. You didn't need internationals when you had recognition at United. And... why would you want to go back to your failure of a lover, anyways?"
I couldn't believe when he said that. I knew being sent away from Madrid because of the small gameplay he got after his injury had been hard for him, that somehow he felt replaced and a bit betrayed by Cris, but--
I had forgotten our promise and that made him feel betrayed by me as well.
"So I decided that I didn't want to contact you anymore, Ed," Ruud finishes. "I thought that... well, I was no longer fit for you. Why would you want to see me. That perhaps I should move on."
It hurt. It hurt to see he had thought about moving on. However, I try to keep calm and answer:
"So... is that why you never came to my testimonial?"
"I was flattered when I saw the list of guests," he shrugs, apparently offended. "But I guess so were the rest of the guys you invited."
"I called you," I emphasize, realizing something.
Ruud seems surprised now.
"You did?"
Ruud's POV
Of course I lied when I said I had thought about moving on. I never thought that. I simply couldn't move on, period.
But what he has just said, about calling... when?
"You didn't answer the phone," he explains. "I tried to call you like thirty times on a week."
I remember then. It had been when I had promised I wouldn't contact him. Yes, I was ridiculous. But I really didn't want to talk to him. Even thinking about him made me sad.
Of course, I just let the phone ring. All that week. And then I got the emailed invitation to his testimonial. That had been emailed to everyone else. And I was offended. Because I was not exclusive anymore. Because I was just like anyone else.
And now it turns out he had tried to call me when I was avoiding him. So I had fucked it up, big.
"And that was when avoiding me became the thing to do, I guess," he says then. He sounds so serious he almost makes me feel bad.
I raise my eyes--it's only now I realize I have been looking down, embarrassed. Yet, when I see Ed... it doesn't matter if he sounds serious. His blue eyes are soft, good-natured.
"That was why... you cancelled your appearance at Soccer-Aid?"
"Yes," I say, feeling more embarrassed and idiotic by the second. "I just... didn't want to go and face you and find out you didn't love me anymore."
"You didn't want this conversation to happen," Ed concludes.
"I guess." Right now, I notice that I just made the napkin a ball, and that it's breaking like snowflakes in my sweaty hand.
"But it didn't go that bad... you shouldn't have been so afraid."
"Well," I say, embarrassed, "this conversation was so much worse in my mind."
He looks directly at me. His eyes are tender, sweet. I feel so tempted to kiss him, but then he looks at his watch.
"I have to leave. I promised the family I'd pick them up from this dinner they're at."
I want to hold his hand and tell him not to go. I'm almost tempted to beg him to stay. I think he notices this, because when he comes towards me, after sayin Thanks for dinner, will see you soon, promise, he kisses my lips, quickly, before he opens the door and disappears.
Some time later, at Old Trafford.
Edwin's POV
Now we called. Now we talked.
Now I see him when he walks into the stadium, dressed in his winter coat, his messy hair, his scruffy beard. I can't help but smiling when I see now he's here, that there are no excuses for avoiding stepping on the same ground I'm stepping on, that he's not afraid to breathe the same air I'm breathing.
I walk to him, smiling. He smiles back, that broad, bright smile that he used with me whenever something special had happened, like goal or a save.
I missed that smile.
I see some of the United legends going in, including some who don't know about us (like Cantona) so I decide this can wait--even if my heart has started saying that it can't, even if all I want to do is look at him, enjoy the fact he has finally come back, this proud, somewhat stupid, lovable man.
Photographers run around. They want pictures. Ruud stands next to me, in all of them. I put my hand on his shoulder, a brotherly gesture, but his arm always surrounds my waist, and presses slightly, his fingers reminding me in that touch that he's so glad to have me here, that now he knows he doesn't want to let me go.
I'm sure he would pull me towards him if there weren't so many people around here--but the game's starting. We have seats together--yes, in spite of our wives being here. We sat them together and us together.
I smile, thinking that I wouldn't have had the seating any other way.
Ruud's POV
The feeling of his slender waist is still present on my fingers as we take a seat.
I'm here, looking at the Old Trafford pitch, with Edwin van der Sar, my lover when I was at United. As much as I love Real Madrid, I can't help feeling that today, Manchester feels more like home.
The game starts. For some reason, the guys are slow. Guess they're not so afraid of QPR, guess they want to party and celebrate their manager with drinks and not with a game. But Sir Alex wouldn't like that, I think.
The problem is that I find my eyes are wandering towards Edwin more than what they should be wandering. Because the match is not helping.
In fact, I'm looking at Edwin so much I feel Leontien must have noticed by now that we're not even talking--we don't need to, I just like him close. But I also want to make out with him, and that's what my wife shouldn't notice.
I turn to look at the girls--but they're having a tremendously animated conversation. In fact, it seems as if they ha tons o say to each other! I suddenly feel a bit guilty--they were used to meeting so frequently, because Edwin and I will always meet to... well, you know. For a moment I almost feel bad that I could have sent their friendship down the drain as well.
But anyways, since they're not paying attention to us, I relax--before sending another look at the pitch. The game's still tied. Come on, boys! What are you doing?
An egotistic thought finds its way into my mind, but I can't help it. And I tell Ed.
"If I had been playing, we'd be up by 3 goals by now."
Ed says nothing, he just turns towards me and smiles, that smile that's formed only by his lips, that smile that's smug and satisfied, but that also acknowledges what I just said, and that makes his eyes sparkle. And he looks fucking hot when he does that.
For some reason, that turns me into a shy teenager then. I can't really look at his handsome face without thinking I want him, but at the same time I can't hold back a smile, so I turn away.
Damn, control yourself.
No, I actually can't. After that, I put my hand on his knee and slowly drag it up his thigh. I want him.
He puts his hand on mine. He's stopping me, but the slight intertwining is a promise of later.
I remove my hand and turn around slightly to look at Mikael Silvestre, who's sitting behind us. He knows what we're doing and he's trying hard not to look. I find that amusing. On the other side, this new midfielder, Shinji Kagawa, seems to be actually surprised by what we're doing.
Oh, if only he knew what we're going to do later...
Edwin's POV
Yes, I wanted him. I wanted him too. Even when the game strated getting exciting, when the lads won and we had goals to celebrate, I couldn't help thinking about going back to our hotel rooms. One of them, we'd have to see which.
There was much merriment when we left. We even said hello to some of the lads, who were really glad to see us again--some that knew even seemed surprised to see us back together, but happy. Like Robin, who winked; Roo, who gave us the thumbs up--and even Rio, who, as soon as he saw Ruud with me, laughed that crazy laugh of his, and actually pulled me aside for a moment just to say:
"It ain' valid ta say 'e is bett'r just 'cuz ya're in luv with'im n' all tha'. Ya need ta be impartial on who's bett'r in bed."
I couldn't help but laughing as I walked away. Outside Old Trafford, the ladies were already making plans for going shopping and even more catching up.
"It looks like you had a lot to talk about," I smiled at Annemarie, partly because she looked happy, partly because that meant Ruud and I would be alone.
She smiled back at me and said: "The ladies want some new clothes and coffee. There are night-sales and special Christmas deals. Presents for the kids will be nice too. What card am I taking?"
I laughed and actually said she was free to spend as much as she pleased. Nearby, Leontien was getting such permission from Ruud, and when she got it, our wives left, waving a cheerful goodbye to us. They would surely be off for a long time and would get there in the wee hours of the morning carrying tons of bags, and wouldn't want to leave the room next morning.
We would take care of them later. Right now...
We're inside the room now. We even got another one for this night. It seems employees of this hotel must be used to other footballers sneaking lovers in, they don't say anything. They'd never guess we're not sneaking anyone, that it's us.
Ruud takes off his coat. He's wearing that suit that... well, he always looks scruffy. His shirt is already undone.
I half-expect him to just rip his clothes off and do the same to mine, but then he just walks towards me, stands on tiptoe, and presses a long, feverish kiss to my lips.
Ruud's POV
It's been so long since I've kissed him that I actually take my time. I run one of my hands through his blonde hair and press him closer to my lips so he can feel my urgency, my need. Even when we pause to breathe I go back at it again.
But then, it's time to stop. I slide his coat off his shoulders and onto the floor. Then I go for his tie. He looks at me, as if surprised by my thoroughness.
"You're taking your time today," he says, smiling.
"I want this to last for a long time," I answer, letting the tie fall down. Then I open his shirt, slowly, one button after another.
What comes next for me is kissing every small bit of skin that appears. Every time a new inch of his skin is revealed, I go for it. All slow. Button, skin, kiss.
My hands also wander too. They touch him and eventually find his nipples along his nice and firm chest. I also feel his heart beating, drumming hard against my palm.
Mine's the same.
He's half naked then, that slender body waiting for me once more. He seems ot have put on a slight bit of weight--but I don't mind. He's still as alluring and attractive as ever.
I go for my shirt then--but he stops me.
"I like you when your shirt's undone," he says, before moving to press his lips against my neck, at first a kiss--then a bite.
He's never been like this. And I love the fact he's acting like this right now.
His fingers, his deft fingers, start unbuttoning my shirt then, even when he hasn't stopped paying attention to my neck. He wants to leave a red mark, a memory for me.
I have to throw my head back and moan out his name when he touches one of my nipples, making it rise. The mark on my neck burns.
"You like it," Ed chuckles, his breath hot against my skin. I can only feel my cock getting hotter and harder by the second.
Edwin's POV
He looks so sexy. I must admit I like having him at my mercy.
But I know he's not one who likes to be controlled. Immediately, he removes his opened shirt and then goes for me, holding me closely. Another kiss, and while one of his hands starts massaging my back, the other snakes between our bodies. He deftly takes care of my belt buckle and then sneaks his hand inside my trousers, after opening the fly. All this between kisses.
His hand then cups my cock, that's half-hard, and begins stroking it through the fabric of my underwear. That's when I have to stop the kissing and moan.
"Feels good," Ruud almost growls and continues stroking until my dick has been stroked out of my clothing, and he's holding it, and I can feel his hot hand against my shaft that is completely up now, and waiting--
I have to remove the belt so that all my clothes, that have become terribly uncomfortable this last minute, can finally fall--I'm naked now, I'm naked and waiting as Ruud slowly gets down on his knees and actually presses a kiss to the tip of my shaft--the then goes for the complete tip, circling it with his tongue as one of his hands gets between my legs and starts circling my hole, my entrance, he knows so well.
"Fuck... Ruud..." I guess I swallowed the "me".
He leaves my shaft alone then, and looks up, actually laughing.
"If you want that to happen, get rid of those stupid shoes."
I look down. My clothes are pooled on the floor, but yes, my shoes are still on, so I can't remove them completely. I tend to that, even slightly annoyed, worried that the mood might be dampened by this situation, but when I finish and my eyes meet his laughing eyes, I can't help but looking at the rest of him, recognizing him.
And he's pumping his cock, his big, delectable cock. He's getting it ready for me.
In a moment, I have gotten rid of everything and I just lay down on the bed when he nods at me to do so.
Ruud's POV
His long body lays down on the bed, and he spreads his legs.
Just a bit, as if teasing me with his entrance, but that's all I need. I know he's allowing me, and I know the way.
But first, I want to worship him.
I climb on the bed and caress his hair.
"Ruud..." he breathes. I know he's still surprised that I'm so slow. I mean, I want to fuck him until he can't stand, yes, but at the same time...
I don't want this moment to end.
I kiss him, a long kiss, my eyes closed, I guess his too, as our tongues and salivas mingle. After that, I open my eyes. He opens them too and smiles as I start going down his long body, leaving kisses and nibbles, all the way to my goal.
His long shaft is waiting for me, but I only trace its pulsing vein. I'm looking for something else.
Literally, his depths.
He gasps, almost growls my name when my tongue slides inside his hole. I see him gripping the sheets, arching, remembering the sensation of me exploring and rimming him.
I remember his taste. He's always been careful with that. Yet... there's this sweaty, sexual scent...
I'm already leaking, just from tasting him. And he is, too.
"Ruud... come on..." I hear him. God, it turns me on to know he's begging.
In fact, I think he's begging because he knows I can't resist him when he does so.
"Again."
He bites his lips, both turned on and reproachful.
"Ruud... please fuck me."
My cock is diamond-hard then.
Those are all the words I need to hear.
Edwin's POV
Like I said. He doesn't like to be controlled. He wants to control.
And I like to be under his control.
When I begged him to fuck me, I meant it.
I wait.
Then, he comes in. One thrust, slow, deep, sliding his cock inch by inch so I can feel it, as if he wanted me to remember what being filled by his shaft is.
I remembered, but the sensation is still enough to overwhelm me. It's not enough to reminisce about his length and girth that having it up my arse...
Then he starts moving, slowly, the friction inside my entrance heavenly. His hips arch and buck, gracefully, like a dancer's, as his dark chocolate eyes look deep into mine.
And then we're kissing. Hard, long, tongue kisses, as if we wanted to eat each other. I reach out and tangle my hands in his dark hair, even pulling so he can bury himself even deeper, hitting my sweet spot--but I moan and the moan is swallowed by a kiss, and another, and another...
Then he almost climbs onto the bed, holding me close, really close, buried so deep that I feel I'm going to explode. I'm almost sitting on his lap when he presses his torso and his hips against mine, enveloping my cock in warm skin and bodies.
"I love you, Ed," he says, holding me even closer.
Then he goes back to passion--he moves, practically not withdrawing his dick, just rubbing it inside my hole as he bites and kisses and sighs and all I can do is moan loudly, repea Ruud, Ruud, Ruud My shaft, sandwiched between our two stomachs, is also victim of friction, and I come before long, holding tight to his back, leaving scratchmarks which we'll later do something about them so that the girls won't notice...
But then he comes inside me, biting my shoulder, and I see nothing--I only feel, feel, his heat, my pleasure, his pleasure, the beauty of having him near, our hearts beating wildly, our love.
Ruud's POV
We regain our breaths slowly, and yet I don't want to let him go.
Not now, not ever.
However, I open my arms and see him leave my lap. I immediately miss his warmth around my cock and his body. He lays on the bed, sighing, and then he signals at me to take my place next to him.
I do so and look deep into his blue eyes. He smiles at me.
"I love you too, Ruud," he whispers.
I reach out to touch him, his skin, his body.
I missed this.
"We're together again, right?" I ask, before I can stop myself. Ed nods and laughs, perhaps a bit amused by the way I asked.
"Yes."
I know I'm going to be ridiculous, but I can't stop what comes next.
"Forever?"
Edwin's smile is even broader. He reaches out to me, kisses me. A long, deep, loving kiss.
"We can't be together forever in bodies... but in hearts... I guess we were never really apart."
.END.
Pairing Ruud van Nistelrooy/Edwin van der Sar.
Disclaimer Though inspired by the fact they suddenly started hanging out again, and mostly by the fact Ruud seemed to happy to be with him at the QPR match... well, I'm pretty sure the smutty details are false. However, I do take a lot of things from reality, as the party where they reunited, the BBQ, and the match. Also, it's the first fic I write with POV's--hope you like it! It kinda asked for this... I don't know.
Summary This. https://twitter.com/vdsar1970/status/241802304620212224 And this. https://twitter.com/vdsar1970/status/242004665552740352
Edwin's POV
It was a party for him.
He didn't invite me, though. I was invited because I'm a Dutch legend, he's a Dutch legend, it's suitable, blah blah blah.
I must admit... at first I doubted about going. I just couldn't stop thinking about my testimonial. The way he never showed up. Or Soccer-Aid. How he cancelled because of "personal reasons". It felt as if he didn't want to see me.
I went because I wanted to stop that. We're grown men, for God's sake. Not teenage boys, dodging each other.
I thought I'd just get there, hug him, have a drink, ask him what was the matter and just settle it the way two grown-ups are supposed to do.
It was until I got there and saw him, standing there, drink in his hand, that broad smile... those eyes looking at me, for some reason, as if nothing had happened, as if he hadn't run away from me...
Only then I realized how much I had missed him and, in a way, longed, hurt for him...
Ruud's POV
When I heard he was coming, I was tempted to run. But, my own party?
I was nervous, fucking nervous. I had been avoiding him for so long.
I told myself it didn't make any sense avoiding him anymore. But it was him, the one that didn't want to see me. I mean, he was the one with the perfect life, who retired at the height of his career and was busy and...
It was his fault. His fault only.
I wanted to say that to his face. I wanted him to get there and tell him he was the one who had forgotten me, pushed me aside.
But, when I saw him walking in, dressed like the fucking GQ model he is...
What can I say? Those blue eyes have always frozen me to my spot.
Not to mention that, as soon as I saw him, everything I wanted was...
Him, again. All of him.
Edwin's POV
We end up sitting at a couch. I have a glass of wine in my hand, perhaps have had one too many. He's already on his fifth beer or something, but he has always handled his liquor better than me.
The conversation I had in my mind's not happening. We're laughing, talking about United and Holland goals, remembering. Even his first goal with United, against me. He laughs sonorously, his laughter I remember so well, and puts one arm on the couch's back, as if I was a girl and he was trying to hug me discreetly. He doesn't do it, though.
It feels as if he had forgotten all about it. Then, he asks:
"Why don't you come to the house one of these days? Lunch."
Ruud's POV
I want to hug him. I really want to, but there's to many people at this party for me to do so.
In fact, there are some people that kinda know, and look at me as if asking what's going on. I know many of the Madrid players think it was over when I was banging Cris.
But it was never over. Not in my mind. Not when I was avoiding him, even.
I want to kiss him, to have him. To undress him and fuck him in that couch. That's why I haven't said anything about how he pushed me away. Because he's laughing, and this has become a charmed moment. I don't want to ruin it. And anyways, now, in the middle of the party... it's not the time.
That was why I invited him to lunch. With a bit of hesitance. I was almost thinking that maybe this was a one-night-only offer: that after my party he would just walk away again.
But when he said that we should agree on a date and he smiled, I knew maybe I had another chance.
Edwin's POV
"Old friends re-united."
I liked the pun.
Just friends, right?
I go back to Twitter as I turn my sight away from--well, almost everything that surrounds me. I'm at Ruud's house in the Netherlands, after some years of not going there.
Still, not much has changed. I avert my sight from Ruud, who's leaning over the grill, cooking. Mainly because his jeans enhance his butt.
Yes, I caught myself looking at his butt.
I look up at the windows, but one of them's Ruud's room. And I don't want to look at his window because I remember one night.
He asked if I wanted the neighborhood to see before fucking me feverishly against the glass, my naked body against it while I moaned and panted and prayed the window wouldn't break.
Ruud then turns and watches me fumbling with my phone.
"What are you doing?"
"Just tweeting to my followers," I answer--which I am, but don't say why. "I want them to guess where I am." I smile.
He looks at me with this sudden expression I can't quite decipher, and then he signals at me to come. I wonder what's he thinking, but he only makes me look at the grill.
"Look! My spicy ribs!"
I smile and try to hide the fact that phrase made me think of his ribcage when he arched while penetrating me, tossing his head back, moaning...
"They're almost ready. Can you watch them while I get everything ready inside, please Ed? Be good."
I can only smile and stand by the grill.
Ruud's POV
I needed to set the table, yes, but I also went inside because.... well, being near him only made me think. I was half-expecting him to go and run his hands through my hair while I was looking at the grill.
I was thinking about his tweet too. When he said he had tweeted that to his followers--I had done the same as well. And it's stupid, but it sometimes feels like we're connected. I mean, we end up doing stuff at the same time, and before we (cliché) completed each other's sentences. Guys at United and at Oranje would laugh at that.
I go to the fridge and take out a beer for me. I have an provision of it because of Heineken's ad. Then I go to the cellar to get wine for him. And a glass.
As I put the dishes and napkins, I realize just how much the complete setting looks like a date, or a romantic dinner. I could blame the wine, though.
This is not a romantic dinner, is it?
But if it was a normal BBQ, I would just take a bottle of soda for him and a beer for me and make us eat and drink outside. I gave the excuse that we should eat inside because it's already fall and the weather is sometimes cold.
This is not a romantic dinner. It's just two friends talking and...
Who am I kidding? I took out a bottle of his favorite red wine. It may not be dinner, it may be lunch, and ribs, but...
I am only missing a rose in the middle of the table or something.
"Ruud?" I hear his voice calling from the yard. "I think these ribs are quite ready."
"Yeah... wait, I'm coming!"
Fuck that expression and the context.
Edwin's POV
So I went in, and, well...
I had to admit, Ruud had indeed planned it. Even as he set down the platter with the meat ("fuck, hot", and I didn't like the way those two words sounded) I looked at my favorite wine and a glass waiting there for me. He had his usual beer, of course.
"What are you waiting for? Be my guest."
That was the cue for me to sit down. And we have been eating, filling the blanks with small talk, as the weather, his Heineken ad, the upcoming marathon for me. Stuff like that.
"Your ribs are real good," I say, after getting a second helping--the image of him arching flashes for a second, and I push it away by drinking perhaps too much wine. I have to refill my glass.
Ruud's POV
My ribs are good? Come and bite them and leave marks of your teeth all over, sometimes too hard because you're close to orgasm, while I stroke you, quickly--
But I couldn't just say it, so I drank almost half a beer bottle in a gulp. And started eating like a madman. Just to keep myself busy with something.
However, when I went for more beer and realized I had emptied the bottle, I knew I had to stand up for another one, of course. I wondered just how stupid I looked when I took a drink from an empty bottle.
I stand up and as I make my way to the kitchen, I feel he's watching me. So I turn, and he's there, smiling, that smirk without teeth, just his lips curving. He looks almost smug when he does it. So confident. So unlike me. I have been trying to hide my anxiety since he walked in.
"You still think I eat like a pig, don't you?" I ask as I sit back with a new beer in hand. Some incident with a bag of chocolates I wolfed down makes its way into my mind, but it was a gift for some... stupid... romantic... corny anniversary of us, so I make the memory go away.
Edwin's POV
He's always been a bit of a barbarian and I find that amusing. And appealing, to tell the truth about it.
He keeps staring at me: "What's so funny? Am I still a pig?"
I narrow that affirmation to the food realm.
"You're funny when you're hungry, what can I say? And I remembered something."
"What?" he sits down and looks at me.
I decide that this is the time. It's now or never. The conversation has to lead to the discussion we have been avoiding.
I've tried to act confident, to do th Yeah, boy, you're so going to get him back ecause I know that going for a direct "I've missed you so much" will just make him mad. He will start sayin why didn't you look for me the and all that stuff.
So I start out.
"Do you remember that time in Torino, when Alex asked me to visit and I took you? At the pizza place. You were so hungry you ate a pizza by yourself, and then, when you found out the dessert was Nutella pizza, well..."
I start chuckling. It had been funny because Ruud had been hungry and in a foul mood, but when his favorite dessert arrived he had acted like a little kid. Of course, I omit the next part, which was going back to the hotel and having sex...
He looks at me with that broad smile of his and then looks away, as if embarrassed. "That pizza was good. It was perfect. Stop it."
I see he's trying to push memories of the sex away as well. But it doesn't matter. I wait for him to say it.
"We should go back there again."
Ruud's POV
i had been tempted to say that the pizza was perfect and that he had been perfect that night too. But I can't.
If I say it, I know I'll most likely get down on my knees and beg him to take me back from... whatever I did.
So I just suggested that. And now I'm hoping he'll answer with a plan. We're free, after all.
What he says next, however, takes me by surprise.
"Alessandro said he'd take us back there in a trip for my testimonial... remember?"
I almost choke with my beer when he says that. When did del Piero say it? I can't remember. I really can't remember.
I bite my lips when he finally asks, beating me to it: "Why did we drift apart?"
Edwin's POV
I tell myself that if he gets angry or starts lashing out at me I'll just leave, and that's that. However, I seem to be lying to myself. My heart's telling me not to go, whatever happens. It's even telling me that, even if we fight, I should stay.
I see him tensing up. He then takes another drink of his beer and looks down at his plate with the bones laying there. For a second it seems as if he's going to just get up, do the dishes and leave me there, but he's got a dishwashing machine, so that's no excuse.
"Ed... it felt as if you pushed me away..." he finally says.
I sigh inaudibly There it goes I think, but then something changes.
"Or maybe it was me," he completes his sentence. "I was calling you long distance every night but I was also Madrid's star, and... I don't know. I was annoying, wasn't I?"
I want to tell him that was not true, that he wasn't. But I guess he knows now that going away was not that good--that not having him physically hurt, that not feeling his heat by my side made me feel lonely. That not even the idea of meeting for internationals helped me. It was just not the same, period.
Guess he'll never know that some days after he left, I had recurrent dreams of him and Beckham fucking, in some kind of reunion. That I was jealous of almost everyone at Madrid because they had him and I didn't. Not even when he had been fucking Cristiano at United because the kid would fling himself at him had I felt so jealous.
That I fucked Rio Ferdinand out of loneliness and jealousy.
So many things happened that when I retired for the internationals I wanted him to retire with me, because I didn't want us to be apart anymore. I wanted us to live like that, like in the hotel, together, forever, sleeping in each other's arms... patching up a relationship that seemed tainted to me.
Then I remember that he had said something about 2010 being our honeymoon or something. About us coming back. Together. And I had agreed.
It hurt. I hadn't remembered that... until now.
Not even when I had been supposed to remember.
Ruud's POV
He's so deep in thought I don't think he has heard himself saying I was not annoying. I wonder what's he thinking about.
I hope it's what we said about 2010. Because... because whenever I remember it I want to get up and shake his shoulders or something--I can't hit him, and I wouldn't, not now, not ever, but sometimes I get so angry...
"And I even fucked Cris when he was at Madrid," is all I can say, for some reason. I know I must be tactful for what comes next...
"I didn't want to bother you when Annemarie was sick."
It's true. I knew he was having a hard time. And I knew he would have done the same if it had been Leontien.
But, still...
It was hard for me to keep myself apart from him when I needed him so. My injury spell...
I think he doesn't know how's it like to feel you might retire well past your prime. When he got to Fulham, he told me, he believed he was no longer fit.
...I have to admit, I was so envious of him afterwards...
He won a CL, and even after Annemarie, he came back and had great seasons, like a phoenix...
I was already over then, wasn't I?
But I needed him. While I was there, recovering. I wanted him to tell me everything would be all right, that I was the scorer everyone knew and loved.
So, when he said he was not coming back for 2010... all I could feel was that he had broken his promise because... he was just past it. Who cared about internationals when you're a superstar in England? And... why, after all... why would you want to go back to your lover, who was not even the shadow of what he used to be?
I knew he was fucking Ferdinand by then, no secret. And they were having a great time, so...
Why bother?
That was when I had thought it was over. So... everything I did... had been ignore him.
That was why I chose Hamburg over Blackburn. I didn't even want to set foot in England. I felt I would be humiliated in front of a man who was glorious and well over me.
While I was not.
Edwin's POV
I knew he would be polite about Annemarie. We have always agreed our wives are not part of what we are.
I also knew he was holding something back. I just keep on watching him.
He finally lets it out.
"Ed... I..." It seems to be hard for him, but he goes on. "I was afraid, Edwin. I was afraid without you. I just kept on thinking what if it had been you instead of Annie. And then came my injuries. I thought I wouldn't be able to play again. And... that... it somehow felt like dying."
I lower my head slightly. He had always been proud of himself somehow. And yes--when I saw I was still a great goalkeeper, it felt like being reborn. So I understood him, in a way.
"And then there was you," Ruud says suddenly, and I feel the bitterness in his voice. It has finally come, the time to blame me. I wait, even though something inside says I should stand up and hold him.
"Edwin... you..." He sighs, has a drink of his beer, and then goes on. "You were so successful. You were doing so well. You had a new lover. Your wife was all right. You had everything. So, when you said you were not going back to 2010... I thought that, well, why would you go back to the Oranje. You didn't need it. You didn't need internationals when you had recognition at United. And... why would you want to go back to your failure of a lover, anyways?"
I couldn't believe when he said that. I knew being sent away from Madrid because of the small gameplay he got after his injury had been hard for him, that somehow he felt replaced and a bit betrayed by Cris, but--
I had forgotten our promise and that made him feel betrayed by me as well.
"So I decided that I didn't want to contact you anymore, Ed," Ruud finishes. "I thought that... well, I was no longer fit for you. Why would you want to see me. That perhaps I should move on."
It hurt. It hurt to see he had thought about moving on. However, I try to keep calm and answer:
"So... is that why you never came to my testimonial?"
"I was flattered when I saw the list of guests," he shrugs, apparently offended. "But I guess so were the rest of the guys you invited."
"I called you," I emphasize, realizing something.
Ruud seems surprised now.
"You did?"
Ruud's POV
Of course I lied when I said I had thought about moving on. I never thought that. I simply couldn't move on, period.
But what he has just said, about calling... when?
"You didn't answer the phone," he explains. "I tried to call you like thirty times on a week."
I remember then. It had been when I had promised I wouldn't contact him. Yes, I was ridiculous. But I really didn't want to talk to him. Even thinking about him made me sad.
Of course, I just let the phone ring. All that week. And then I got the emailed invitation to his testimonial. That had been emailed to everyone else. And I was offended. Because I was not exclusive anymore. Because I was just like anyone else.
And now it turns out he had tried to call me when I was avoiding him. So I had fucked it up, big.
"And that was when avoiding me became the thing to do, I guess," he says then. He sounds so serious he almost makes me feel bad.
I raise my eyes--it's only now I realize I have been looking down, embarrassed. Yet, when I see Ed... it doesn't matter if he sounds serious. His blue eyes are soft, good-natured.
"That was why... you cancelled your appearance at Soccer-Aid?"
"Yes," I say, feeling more embarrassed and idiotic by the second. "I just... didn't want to go and face you and find out you didn't love me anymore."
"You didn't want this conversation to happen," Ed concludes.
"I guess." Right now, I notice that I just made the napkin a ball, and that it's breaking like snowflakes in my sweaty hand.
"But it didn't go that bad... you shouldn't have been so afraid."
"Well," I say, embarrassed, "this conversation was so much worse in my mind."
He looks directly at me. His eyes are tender, sweet. I feel so tempted to kiss him, but then he looks at his watch.
"I have to leave. I promised the family I'd pick them up from this dinner they're at."
I want to hold his hand and tell him not to go. I'm almost tempted to beg him to stay. I think he notices this, because when he comes towards me, after sayin Thanks for dinner, will see you soon, promise, he kisses my lips, quickly, before he opens the door and disappears.
Some time later, at Old Trafford.
Edwin's POV
Now we called. Now we talked.
Now I see him when he walks into the stadium, dressed in his winter coat, his messy hair, his scruffy beard. I can't help but smiling when I see now he's here, that there are no excuses for avoiding stepping on the same ground I'm stepping on, that he's not afraid to breathe the same air I'm breathing.
I walk to him, smiling. He smiles back, that broad, bright smile that he used with me whenever something special had happened, like goal or a save.
I missed that smile.
I see some of the United legends going in, including some who don't know about us (like Cantona) so I decide this can wait--even if my heart has started saying that it can't, even if all I want to do is look at him, enjoy the fact he has finally come back, this proud, somewhat stupid, lovable man.
Photographers run around. They want pictures. Ruud stands next to me, in all of them. I put my hand on his shoulder, a brotherly gesture, but his arm always surrounds my waist, and presses slightly, his fingers reminding me in that touch that he's so glad to have me here, that now he knows he doesn't want to let me go.
I'm sure he would pull me towards him if there weren't so many people around here--but the game's starting. We have seats together--yes, in spite of our wives being here. We sat them together and us together.
I smile, thinking that I wouldn't have had the seating any other way.
Ruud's POV
The feeling of his slender waist is still present on my fingers as we take a seat.
I'm here, looking at the Old Trafford pitch, with Edwin van der Sar, my lover when I was at United. As much as I love Real Madrid, I can't help feeling that today, Manchester feels more like home.
The game starts. For some reason, the guys are slow. Guess they're not so afraid of QPR, guess they want to party and celebrate their manager with drinks and not with a game. But Sir Alex wouldn't like that, I think.
The problem is that I find my eyes are wandering towards Edwin more than what they should be wandering. Because the match is not helping.
In fact, I'm looking at Edwin so much I feel Leontien must have noticed by now that we're not even talking--we don't need to, I just like him close. But I also want to make out with him, and that's what my wife shouldn't notice.
I turn to look at the girls--but they're having a tremendously animated conversation. In fact, it seems as if they ha tons o say to each other! I suddenly feel a bit guilty--they were used to meeting so frequently, because Edwin and I will always meet to... well, you know. For a moment I almost feel bad that I could have sent their friendship down the drain as well.
But anyways, since they're not paying attention to us, I relax--before sending another look at the pitch. The game's still tied. Come on, boys! What are you doing?
An egotistic thought finds its way into my mind, but I can't help it. And I tell Ed.
"If I had been playing, we'd be up by 3 goals by now."
Ed says nothing, he just turns towards me and smiles, that smile that's formed only by his lips, that smile that's smug and satisfied, but that also acknowledges what I just said, and that makes his eyes sparkle. And he looks fucking hot when he does that.
For some reason, that turns me into a shy teenager then. I can't really look at his handsome face without thinking I want him, but at the same time I can't hold back a smile, so I turn away.
Damn, control yourself.
No, I actually can't. After that, I put my hand on his knee and slowly drag it up his thigh. I want him.
He puts his hand on mine. He's stopping me, but the slight intertwining is a promise of later.
I remove my hand and turn around slightly to look at Mikael Silvestre, who's sitting behind us. He knows what we're doing and he's trying hard not to look. I find that amusing. On the other side, this new midfielder, Shinji Kagawa, seems to be actually surprised by what we're doing.
Oh, if only he knew what we're going to do later...
Edwin's POV
Yes, I wanted him. I wanted him too. Even when the game strated getting exciting, when the lads won and we had goals to celebrate, I couldn't help thinking about going back to our hotel rooms. One of them, we'd have to see which.
There was much merriment when we left. We even said hello to some of the lads, who were really glad to see us again--some that knew even seemed surprised to see us back together, but happy. Like Robin, who winked; Roo, who gave us the thumbs up--and even Rio, who, as soon as he saw Ruud with me, laughed that crazy laugh of his, and actually pulled me aside for a moment just to say:
"It ain' valid ta say 'e is bett'r just 'cuz ya're in luv with'im n' all tha'. Ya need ta be impartial on who's bett'r in bed."
I couldn't help but laughing as I walked away. Outside Old Trafford, the ladies were already making plans for going shopping and even more catching up.
"It looks like you had a lot to talk about," I smiled at Annemarie, partly because she looked happy, partly because that meant Ruud and I would be alone.
She smiled back at me and said: "The ladies want some new clothes and coffee. There are night-sales and special Christmas deals. Presents for the kids will be nice too. What card am I taking?"
I laughed and actually said she was free to spend as much as she pleased. Nearby, Leontien was getting such permission from Ruud, and when she got it, our wives left, waving a cheerful goodbye to us. They would surely be off for a long time and would get there in the wee hours of the morning carrying tons of bags, and wouldn't want to leave the room next morning.
We would take care of them later. Right now...
We're inside the room now. We even got another one for this night. It seems employees of this hotel must be used to other footballers sneaking lovers in, they don't say anything. They'd never guess we're not sneaking anyone, that it's us.
Ruud takes off his coat. He's wearing that suit that... well, he always looks scruffy. His shirt is already undone.
I half-expect him to just rip his clothes off and do the same to mine, but then he just walks towards me, stands on tiptoe, and presses a long, feverish kiss to my lips.
Ruud's POV
It's been so long since I've kissed him that I actually take my time. I run one of my hands through his blonde hair and press him closer to my lips so he can feel my urgency, my need. Even when we pause to breathe I go back at it again.
But then, it's time to stop. I slide his coat off his shoulders and onto the floor. Then I go for his tie. He looks at me, as if surprised by my thoroughness.
"You're taking your time today," he says, smiling.
"I want this to last for a long time," I answer, letting the tie fall down. Then I open his shirt, slowly, one button after another.
What comes next for me is kissing every small bit of skin that appears. Every time a new inch of his skin is revealed, I go for it. All slow. Button, skin, kiss.
My hands also wander too. They touch him and eventually find his nipples along his nice and firm chest. I also feel his heart beating, drumming hard against my palm.
Mine's the same.
He's half naked then, that slender body waiting for me once more. He seems ot have put on a slight bit of weight--but I don't mind. He's still as alluring and attractive as ever.
I go for my shirt then--but he stops me.
"I like you when your shirt's undone," he says, before moving to press his lips against my neck, at first a kiss--then a bite.
He's never been like this. And I love the fact he's acting like this right now.
His fingers, his deft fingers, start unbuttoning my shirt then, even when he hasn't stopped paying attention to my neck. He wants to leave a red mark, a memory for me.
I have to throw my head back and moan out his name when he touches one of my nipples, making it rise. The mark on my neck burns.
"You like it," Ed chuckles, his breath hot against my skin. I can only feel my cock getting hotter and harder by the second.
Edwin's POV
He looks so sexy. I must admit I like having him at my mercy.
But I know he's not one who likes to be controlled. Immediately, he removes his opened shirt and then goes for me, holding me closely. Another kiss, and while one of his hands starts massaging my back, the other snakes between our bodies. He deftly takes care of my belt buckle and then sneaks his hand inside my trousers, after opening the fly. All this between kisses.
His hand then cups my cock, that's half-hard, and begins stroking it through the fabric of my underwear. That's when I have to stop the kissing and moan.
"Feels good," Ruud almost growls and continues stroking until my dick has been stroked out of my clothing, and he's holding it, and I can feel his hot hand against my shaft that is completely up now, and waiting--
I have to remove the belt so that all my clothes, that have become terribly uncomfortable this last minute, can finally fall--I'm naked now, I'm naked and waiting as Ruud slowly gets down on his knees and actually presses a kiss to the tip of my shaft--the then goes for the complete tip, circling it with his tongue as one of his hands gets between my legs and starts circling my hole, my entrance, he knows so well.
"Fuck... Ruud..." I guess I swallowed the "me".
He leaves my shaft alone then, and looks up, actually laughing.
"If you want that to happen, get rid of those stupid shoes."
I look down. My clothes are pooled on the floor, but yes, my shoes are still on, so I can't remove them completely. I tend to that, even slightly annoyed, worried that the mood might be dampened by this situation, but when I finish and my eyes meet his laughing eyes, I can't help but looking at the rest of him, recognizing him.
And he's pumping his cock, his big, delectable cock. He's getting it ready for me.
In a moment, I have gotten rid of everything and I just lay down on the bed when he nods at me to do so.
Ruud's POV
His long body lays down on the bed, and he spreads his legs.
Just a bit, as if teasing me with his entrance, but that's all I need. I know he's allowing me, and I know the way.
But first, I want to worship him.
I climb on the bed and caress his hair.
"Ruud..." he breathes. I know he's still surprised that I'm so slow. I mean, I want to fuck him until he can't stand, yes, but at the same time...
I don't want this moment to end.
I kiss him, a long kiss, my eyes closed, I guess his too, as our tongues and salivas mingle. After that, I open my eyes. He opens them too and smiles as I start going down his long body, leaving kisses and nibbles, all the way to my goal.
His long shaft is waiting for me, but I only trace its pulsing vein. I'm looking for something else.
Literally, his depths.
He gasps, almost growls my name when my tongue slides inside his hole. I see him gripping the sheets, arching, remembering the sensation of me exploring and rimming him.
I remember his taste. He's always been careful with that. Yet... there's this sweaty, sexual scent...
I'm already leaking, just from tasting him. And he is, too.
"Ruud... come on..." I hear him. God, it turns me on to know he's begging.
In fact, I think he's begging because he knows I can't resist him when he does so.
"Again."
He bites his lips, both turned on and reproachful.
"Ruud... please fuck me."
My cock is diamond-hard then.
Those are all the words I need to hear.
Edwin's POV
Like I said. He doesn't like to be controlled. He wants to control.
And I like to be under his control.
When I begged him to fuck me, I meant it.
I wait.
Then, he comes in. One thrust, slow, deep, sliding his cock inch by inch so I can feel it, as if he wanted me to remember what being filled by his shaft is.
I remembered, but the sensation is still enough to overwhelm me. It's not enough to reminisce about his length and girth that having it up my arse...
Then he starts moving, slowly, the friction inside my entrance heavenly. His hips arch and buck, gracefully, like a dancer's, as his dark chocolate eyes look deep into mine.
And then we're kissing. Hard, long, tongue kisses, as if we wanted to eat each other. I reach out and tangle my hands in his dark hair, even pulling so he can bury himself even deeper, hitting my sweet spot--but I moan and the moan is swallowed by a kiss, and another, and another...
Then he almost climbs onto the bed, holding me close, really close, buried so deep that I feel I'm going to explode. I'm almost sitting on his lap when he presses his torso and his hips against mine, enveloping my cock in warm skin and bodies.
"I love you, Ed," he says, holding me even closer.
Then he goes back to passion--he moves, practically not withdrawing his dick, just rubbing it inside my hole as he bites and kisses and sighs and all I can do is moan loudly, repea Ruud, Ruud, Ruud My shaft, sandwiched between our two stomachs, is also victim of friction, and I come before long, holding tight to his back, leaving scratchmarks which we'll later do something about them so that the girls won't notice...
But then he comes inside me, biting my shoulder, and I see nothing--I only feel, feel, his heat, my pleasure, his pleasure, the beauty of having him near, our hearts beating wildly, our love.
Ruud's POV
We regain our breaths slowly, and yet I don't want to let him go.
Not now, not ever.
However, I open my arms and see him leave my lap. I immediately miss his warmth around my cock and his body. He lays on the bed, sighing, and then he signals at me to take my place next to him.
I do so and look deep into his blue eyes. He smiles at me.
"I love you too, Ruud," he whispers.
I reach out to touch him, his skin, his body.
I missed this.
"We're together again, right?" I ask, before I can stop myself. Ed nods and laughs, perhaps a bit amused by the way I asked.
"Yes."
I know I'm going to be ridiculous, but I can't stop what comes next.
"Forever?"
Edwin's smile is even broader. He reaches out to me, kisses me. A long, deep, loving kiss.
"We can't be together forever in bodies... but in hearts... I guess we were never really apart."
.END.